September 11th
by xXChiasaHimuraXx
Summary: AU. Three, unconnected one-shots commemorating the events of September 11th, 2001, in the USA. Includes: *I Don't Understand, Ian, *This Can't Be Happening, and *Never Again* AU for the obvious: It takes place in America, and there is no spy business involved.
1. I Don't Understand, Ian

**A/N: **Very AU. But I couldn't not write this. I was listening to 'Round and Round' by Three Days Grace on Youtube and saw this in the sidebar: Kevin Cosgrove's LIVE 911 call as he DIES. I knew I was going to regret watching it, but I clicked on it anyway. It takes a lot to make me cry, and that video made me cry. It makes me want to cry just _thinking _about it. Thus, these three one-shots were born. (The other two will be posted as the 11th anniversary approaches.)

Please don't comment and say that I'm a Muslim hater, okay? I'm not. I completely understand that not all Muslims agreed with the actions that resulted in a national tragedy for us. (I'm Baptist; saying that I hate Muslims because of what happened in NYC would be like someone saying I hate our Armed Forces because I'm Baptist in reference to the West Borough(sp) Baptists.)

Anywho, enough of that. I don't own the characters in these one-shots. To save myself some time, I'll just say this: Disclaimer applies to all three.

* * *

_I Don't Understand, Ian_

"What is this place?" seven-year-old Alex asked, looking around him at the giant, square fountains built into the ground.

"It's a memorial," Ian responded.

"What's a 'memorial?'"

"It's… Well, it's just something to help us remember something that happened. …A lot of people died here…"

"Why did they die, Uncle Ian?"

Ian sighed. Sometimes his nephew was too curious for his own good. "There are a lot of bad people in the world, Alex. Sometimes innocent people die."

"But I don't understand _why, _Uncle Ian."

"You know something? I don't think anyone does. That's just one of the cruelties of life."

Alex sighed this time. "I meant, _how_ did they die?"

Ian had, of course, known what the seven-year old had been asking – and he had been hoping to avoid having to explain something so… _horrific._ "Well, Alex… Seven years ago, two airplanes crashed into two very tall towers that used to stand right where these giant fountains are now. The two towers – often called the Twin Towers – housed the offices of hundreds of men and women, most of which have their names carved into these stones because they were killed that day."

"But why would they do that? Why would the pilots fly right into the towers?"

"Because they wanted to. It's rather complicated, their reasons for what they did, but what it boils down to is that they wanted to."

"I don't understand, Uncle Ian."

"Neither do I," Ian sighed. "But they did. The towers collapsed after the planes were flown into them, killing many of the people who worked within them, as well as the passengers on the planes, innocent by-standers, and many, many rescue workers who fought to try to rescue people from the buildings before they fell. The first-response rescuers were truly _heroes_, Alex; I want you to remember that. They didn't have to go in after people they had never met, but they did. And, for that reason, many of them perished day – seven years ago today, as a matter of fact.

"But that's actually why we're here, Alex. There is a name I need to find – the name of one of the first-response rescuers. We should be close now."

It took quite some time to find it ("Four hundred forty-one names to look through, Alex!" Ian had commented), but, eventually, the pair found the name Ian was searching for.

"Ah, here it is, Alex," Ian stated with a sad sigh, pointing to one of the names carved into the stone.

"John R. Rider," Alex read. "Hey! He has the same last name…"

"Yes," Ian confirmed in a heavy voice, placing an arm around the lad's shoulders. "My brother. And _your father, _Alex. He was killed that day when the first tower fell, as he was making his way up to the higher floors to rescue those trapped where the plane had come into contact with the building. He saved my life that day, Alex, and the lives of countless others who will never know what he gave up to save them."

"M-my daddy?" Alex whispered.

Ian nodded. "Shortly after you were born." He knelt down and turned Alex so they were eye-to-eye. "But you have to understand something, Alex. He loved you and your mother very much – that was why he did it. He knew there were people in the buildings who had families they loved very much, too. He hated to think about what he would lose if the situation were reversed and he was the one who was trapped. He went in because of _love, _Alex. And that is the most powerful of sacrifices."


	2. This Can't Be Happening!

**A/N: **Here is one-shot number two. Completely different situation. Just for clarification, for all intents and purposes, Ian is married, and Alex's parents are still dead so he lives with his aunt and uncle.

Thank you for not leaving any hate comments, by the way; I was half-way afraid that I was going to get a bunch of crap like the comments you see on Youtube videos. Really enjoyed seeing those reviews from DJ Awesome 101, , and FishInAFadora. =)

Hope you enjoy. =)

* * *

_This Can't Be Happening!_

Alex snuck a look at the clock. Five minutes. Crud. He turned back to the math homework that was only partly finished and due in ten minutes. He groaned. There was no way under the sun he would be able to get it done – even if he got the answers from someone, he wouldn't get any credit if he didn't show his work. _Fantastic!_

"Attention, all staff and faculty," the intercom suddenly blared, causing him to jerk his head up and listen. "Please turn on your TVs to Channel Six at this time, and ignore all bells. Thank you."

Alex turned back to his homework as his study hall advisor crossed the room and pressed the power button. Perfect! Luck was on his side today! Whatever boring, breaking news story the heads thought was necessary for the entire student body to watch might just give him enough time to get this stupid assignment done!

"As you can see behind me," the spokeswoman was saying as the screen lit up, "the building is already – wait! Is – is that – !"

Alex's attention jerked up to the screen as the sounds of an explosion reached his ears just in time to see an airplane collide with a tall tower. His eyes suddenly widened in recognition as he put the pieces together: the second of the World Trade Towers bursting into smoke… a catastrophe large enough to get every student in the school out of classes…

His breath caught in his throat, chest tightening. "No…" he whispered, drawing the attention of the nearest students. "No… Uncle Ian…" He suddenly found he couldn't breathe, couldn't think anything except 'Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay…' It _was _possible he could have gone to lunch early today, after all. Yeah, he convinced himself, or he was home sick; he didn't have to be trapped in a burning building right now… It was futile to think like that, he knew, as his uncle always went to lunch at one o'clock (and it was only just after nine – much too early for lunch anyway) because it coincided with his wife's lunch break and he was never sick – but he couldn't help it. His uncle couldn't be trapped in there… He just couldn't be!

His eyes glued to the screen watching the footage, his math homework suddenly didn't seem so important anymore. Just breathe, he had to remind himself. Uncle Ian will be okay… Wouldn't he be?

The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow until Alex was about ready to go crazy. Surely his aunt would call the school as soon as she knew something, good or bad, so Alex would know. But maybe she didn't know any more than he did.

The south tower collapsed – his uncle worked in the north tower, but it didn't really make him feel any better; he wasn't the only person in the school who had family with jobs in the Twin Towers. His best friend, Tom, was lucky though; his entire family was vacation right now, half way across the country. But maybe it wasn't really that lucky, he thought; Tom's father would still be seeing all of this – and thinking about his coworkers, and thinking that it should have been him.

The minutes continued to drag by, the live footage showing the rescue parties – and even civilians – doing the best they could to rescue as many as they could before the second tower came down. And then –

Alex couldn't hold back the strangled cry that slipped through his lips when the second tower started to crumble. "No!" He stood up abruptly. "IAN! NO!" He couldn't breathe anymore, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare at the TV screen as the tower collapsed into a heap that couldn't be seen behind the screen of smoke and dust. He was shaking uncontrollably and there was something warm and wet making its way down his cheeks, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. "No…" he whispered.

He didn't dare look away until he felt a hand on each shoulder. Tearing his eyes away, he met the gentle gaze of his teacher. "Do you want to go down to the office?" he asked gently.

Alex slowly nodded. That way, at least, he would be right there when any news came.

He sat in the front office until his aunt came to get him around 11:30. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she shook her head when Alex asked if she had heard anything. They listened to the news coverage on the radio all the way back to their home in Kearny. As soon as they were through the door, the TV set was turned on. They sat, holding each other, for hours upon hours watching the live news feed, with no word from or about Ian. In this case, Alex thought, no news was _not _good news…

As they watched, the news only seemed to get worse. An attack on the Pentagon… a fourth flight crashed into a field in Pennsylvania… More casualties…

Alex's phone buzzed in his jeans pocket, startling him. He shifted slightly, almost glad for the distraction. A text message from Tom: _Alex! We saw what happened! Is your uncle alright?_

He bit his lip before texting back, _I don't know. Haven't heard anything yet…_

_Sorry man, _came the reply. _Let me know when you find out he's okay, okay?_

Alex almost smiled. _I will._

Days passed, people were still being found – both dead and alive. School had been cancelled due to how many families the disaster directly affected, for which Alex was immensely grateful – not that his aunt would have made him go, anyway; she would have let him stay home, understanding that he wouldn't be able to concentrate anyway.

Alex was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the latest news footage, when the doorbell rang. He jumped out of his seat and reached the door just seconds after his aunt. She opened the door to reveal the haggard face of a man Alex vaguely recognized from when his uncle had had friends from work over.

"I'm sorry," the man spoke softly. "But your husband's body was pulled from the wreckage a few hours ago; it was barely identifiable, but he still had his license intact in his wallet. I know that no number of apologies can make it any better, but I am just so, so sorry for your loss."

Alex took a step back. For the umpteenth time since the second tower had been hit, he felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He struggled to breathe, tears springing to his eyes; somewhere on the edges of his consciousness, he was aware of his aunt thanking the man and closing the door, but none of it truly registered. Only one thought seemed to be able to penetrate the haze in his mind.

_This can't be happening… Uncle Ian… No, this – it isn't happening!_


	3. Never Again

**A/N: **Third and final installment. The setting is San Fransisco, California - little bit different this time around. ;) Also, Alex's dad is still alive, but his mother is deceased for an unspecified reason. Also, for _international readers_: Senior year is the last year before heading off to college/university in the USA.

Bit of a different prospective, this time, too - basically how the tradegy affected people not just in the NYC area but all over the country. ...I really should have had one involving the Pentagon, in hindsight, but it's a little late now... Two deaths with the Towers: One victim being a rescuer, the other a worker. Now, we have Flight 93. Powerful stuff, if you've ever heard anything about it. If not, it's in the A/N at the bottom. =)

As always, thanks for the awesome reviews! _Especially_ to SpaceAstronaut, whose name was left out last chapter (even though I typed it in), and I didn't notice until after I'd posted it. Many apologies. But also thanks to ElodieKumari94 and Arsasa Aokidemi. =)

* * *

_Never Again_

"So when does your dad get back, Alex?" Tom asked as the two friends slid into their seats, plopping down the mush that passed as 'lunch' onto the table in front of them.

"Tomorrow," Alex sighed. "I can't wait; he's already promised to take me to the game Saturday. I think it's supposed to be an apology for being gone so much." He shrugged.

Tom grinned. "With how strict your uncle is? He should owe you about five games for every time he's gone on business. Where did he go this time again?"

"New York City. And staying with my uncle is not _that _bad, Tom – it's just _different._" Alex shrugged again. "Either way, I'm just glad he'll be back tomorrow."

"Yeah," Tom agreed, "then we can stay up 'til midnight again on your Xbox."

"Of course; should've guessed that was the real reason you don't like my uncle." Alex rolled his eyes while Tom just grinned.

A beat or two of silence passed before Tom asked, "So… Buddy, ol' pal…"

"Yes, I finished my math homework, Tom."

* * *

The cordless phone rung next to Alex on his bedside table, startling him out of his pleasant dreams. Knowing his uncle would have left for work already, he blearily opened his eyes and checked the time. _6:52 AM. _ Who in the world would be calling this early in the morning? He didn't have to get up for school for another hour and a half almost, thanks to having open campus first period of the day. Ah, the joys of being a senior! He huffed in frustration at his interrupted sleep as he picked up the phone and pressed the talk button. "Hello?"

"Alex? I know it's early, son, sorry for waking you up."

"Dad?" Alex was instantly alert. He should already be over an hour into the flight right now. "Is something wrong?"

"No… Not exactly. Uhm, it's a little complicated, son. I just wanted to call and let you know that I might not be home in time to take you to the game. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay. I understand." Alex was disappointed, to say the least, but what could he do? This wouldn't be the first time a conference went long or a flight was cancelled on short notice. "What happened?"

He could hear voices in the background and could just barely make out the words, "Are you guys ready? Okay. Let's roll!"

"I – I don't have time to explain now, son. I have to go. Just – just know that I love you."

"I love you too, Dad." The line went dead. Alex pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it in puzzlement. "That was… strange," he muttered.

With a sigh, Alex decided that now that he was awake (and thoroughly confused), he might as well just get up. He rolled out of bed, got dressed, and went down to the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat. Sitting down at the table, he flicked on the small TV that sat in the kitchen. As the screen came to life, his finger moved over the channel button – and froze there as the news broadcasted itself onto the screen.

"As you can see behind me," the news reporter was saying, "the South Tower of the World Trade Center has just collapsed after nearly an hour since the initial collision of the plane."

Alex's head spun. _What?!_

"The North Tower is still standing, but I can't help but wonder for how much longer. From the reports I've been receiving, the situation at the Pentagon is, at least, slightly less drastic but no less tragic for the families of the victims – of both government workers and the passengers and personnel on the flight."

Alex's mind was reeling now. Planes crashing into buildings… Just what on earth was happening?! Then a thought hit him: His dad was flying home today. He closed his eyes for a moment, quickly converting the time zones. It calmed him a bit; those planes, according to the reporter, had crashed before his dad had called him…

"Wait, wait, I'm getting a report coming through. Ah, apparently there was a fourth hijacked plane. I'm getting a report that yet another plane has crashed, though this one was in the middle of a field only minutes ago. I can only wonder at this point where it must have been headed and what must have happened for it to not reach its destination." Alex's blood froze, the voice he'd heard in the background of his father's call running through his mind: _"Are you guys ready? Okay. Let's roll!"_

The phone rang again, then, startling Alex from his thoughts. He answered on autopilot. "Hello?"

"Alex!" Tom exclaimed. "Are you seeing this?"

"The news reports?"

"Yeah, man! This – this is crazy! Two hijacked planes crashing into the Towers and the third one into the Pentagon and now they're saying there was supposed to be a fourth target! It's insane!"

"Tom. My dad is flying home today…"

A pause on the other end of the line. "Oh, God… Alex, I'm sure it wasn't his flight."

"You don't know that," he spoke numbly. "They haven't confirmed what flight it was… My dad called not even a half hour ago, saying he might not be home in time for the game…"

"There you have it: Couldn't have been your dad's flight then."

"They would have been flying over Pennsylvania, Tom. That's where that last flight went down…" He paused, biting back tears. "What if he knew, Tom? What if he knew they were going to d-die, and that's why he called? What if he didn't mean his flight got delayed…"

"Oh, God, Alex…."

Alex's attention was pulled back to the screen as the next report came. "I am now hearing that United Airlines Flight 93 from Newark, New Jersey, to San Francisco, California, lost communication just before ten o'clock and… Yes, it has just been confirmed that Flight 93 has, indeed, crashed into a field in Pennsylvania, in Somerset County."

"Tom, that was my dad's flight!"

"What? What are you talki –." A pause in which Alex knew he was just hearing the same news he had. "Oh, God… Alex… You – you're sure?"

Alex bit his lip before whispering, "Yes. They knew, Tom… They knew… They – they must have tried to stop it…"

"Alex… I'm so sorry, man; I'm so sorry…"

He didn't respond – couldn't, really. He turned his head to see his uncle coming through the front door of the house. He hung up without saying goodbye as his uncle came over to him. As childish as he felt, Alex couldn't keep back the tears any longer. His uncle didn't say a word, only pulled his nephew into his arms, silently crying along with him.

_Never again, _Alex thought, _I'll never see you again… I love you, Dad. I love you…_

* * *

**A/N: **So. Flight 93. It was the fourth hijacked plane, the destination is debated as to whether it was headed for the Capitol building or the White House - because it never made it. When the passengers became aware of what was going on, they attempted to take over the cockpit. Whether they succeeded is also debated - all that is truly known is that for whatever reason, the plane never reached it's destination because the passengers attempted to take control.  
If you want more information, Google is a wonderful thing. ;) (And I honestly suggest you go read about it; it really is a very powerful story...)

Today is the eleventh anniversary of the terrorist attacks. I was only eight when it happened, so I don't really remember much about it. But what I do remember is thinking that it was something that would - and should - never be forgotten. Regardless of all the theories of what people think really happened that day, people _died. _And _that _is why I wrote these one-shots.

Those lives deserved to be remembered.

_Never Forget: 9/11/01_


End file.
